So, when I was little, we had a neighbor down the way who had fought in WWII and had lost both of his legs. His wife or son were always pushing him around in a wheel chair. All over town, you'd see them, son or wife...and the man in the wheel chair.
And I was a kid, so of course I did what kids so often do...I stared, and I pointed. “Mom, look, that guys has no legs!” Needless to say, this did not go over well with my mother.
There was the yanking, the spanking, the “Don't you ever say anything like that again!” And there was the quiet ride home with the muttered, “Wait until you father hears about this.”
By the time we got home, she had mostly forgotten the incident. Other things got in the way: chores, supper, phone calls, neighbor visits, kids screaming in the yard. But I didn't forget it. And I didn't understand it. I mean, the guy didn't have legs. That's unusual. It's not something you see every day.
And I lived in a time and place where differences were suspect. Different skin color. Different politics. Different clothing. Different church. All these things were somehow dark and sinister. Scary. So, shouldn't I point out this major, glaring difference?
One day, I was playing down the road with some friends at a place close to wheelchair guy's home. And he came out, pushed by his son. And we all stopped what we were doing and just stood there, staring. And he noticed us, and called us over.
“Oh, we've had it now,” we thought. “Our moms are going to kill us.” We shyly went over, looking anywhere but at him. And he leaned over and said, “It's ok to look. It's worse to act like I don't exist.” Then his son loaded him in the car, and off they went to do whatever.
I have always carried that with me. I don't know if it's the right thing to do nowadays. I don't know if it's politically correct or woke or rude or what, but I always try to look at people in wheelchairs or crutches or who are autistic or whatever.
Not to stare at them for being weird or different, but to look at them in their totality. I mean a person pushing herself around in a wheelchair probably already knows she's in the wheelchair. And to pretend otherwise is, well, weird.
I remembered that neighbor this week thinking about this Gospel reading. The kernel of this story is this: Jesus shows love to a blind guy and heals him. That's it. But all the details seem to be about everyone else losing their minds over this and freaking out in all the different ways people freak out.
There's the “The guy is blind” group...what sin of his caused it? Or what did his parents do to cause it? It must've been something serious for God to do this to him.
Then there're the “Who does this guy think he is” folks? How dare he rise above his situation in life! Who does he know? Why does he get all the advantages of being healed and acting all normal and such?
There are the miracle deniers, refusing to believe it happened at all, sitting around, reviewing the tapes, looking for scandal. It's a body double, that's what! A hoax! Fake news!
And there're the conspiracy theorists: this so-called miracle is a threat to our existence. We've got to put a stop to this before the world as we know it comes crashing to an end.
The next thing you know, people will start caring for each other as they are and breaking rules to help each other, regardless of differences, and suddenly, before you know it, our power base will be gone.
The next think we know, hearings are being held. Witnesses are being called. Positions are being taken. Interviews are given. Pundits are punditing. Trials are held. And differences are cancelled, and people are outlawed.
This is so familiar, right? All because a blind guy changed.
But, y'all, I'm beginning to wonder about this story. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe the whole thing is a misdirection on the part of the gospel writer. All of these characters; all of this detail.
I'm wondering if maybe it's meant to get us to see ourselves in a new way. I'm actually wondering of maybe this is meant to get us to start focusing on what we're living through today. At the way we let ourselves get swept away on all the currents of whatever is sweeping through society at any given time.
We are told time and time again to suspect anyone that's different. And if they are different, they are an enemy. Especially, that. Everyone is an enemy. Anyone who is different, isn't different...they are evil.
Anyone who has a different opinion isn't someone who might just have a point if I listen...they are someone to be silenced. The conversation, if it can be called that, is at the nuclear option level. We no longer exchange ideas, but we revel in the exchange of violent hatred and taunting.
THOSE PEOPLE are not just “those people.” They are everything that has every been wrong with the world...and will ever be. They need to be gone. Crushed. Stripped of anything human.
So, I went back to read this scripture again. And again. And again. Then it hit me. I had missed it so often because it wasn't really down in the story at all. It was at the beginning:
As Jesus walked along, he saw a man blind from birth.
It's there at the beginning, and it's there in the way the words are strung together. We get so caught up in the adjectives we assign to people: trans, cripple, conservative, liberal, gay, communist, fascist, disabled, migrant, Iranian, traitor. When we talk about this story it's “Jesus and the Blind Man.” And we go immediately to the word “blind.”
But that's not how Jesus saw it. Listen again: As Jesus walked along, he saw a man blind from birth.
As Jesus walked along, he saw a man...
Before anything else, Jesus saw a man. Jesus saw his humanity. All the other adjectives, they come later. All those things that set us apart from each other, they come later. All those things come later.
And more than that, “Jesus saw...” Jesus looked and saw...he saw a whole person, worthy of love and respect. A child of God. A person who may be saddled with their own set of adjectives that they had to carry with through life. But Jesus looked and saw...a person. And he loved the person.
“As Jesus walked along, he saw a man...” Jesus walked along and saw a man, he saw a woman, he saw us, he saw me, and he saw you. Jesus walked along, and he saw. Thanks be to God, he saw us.”
Amen